


The Perfect Moment

by DameinToyland



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, HP Fluff Fest 2020, Hermione loves her job but sometimes she just misses family time, Minister for Magic Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26067958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameinToyland/pseuds/DameinToyland
Summary: Hermione gets home late from work and witnesses story time with Ron and the kids. Ron is nostalgic, Hugo is excited, and Rose isn’t having any of it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 18
Kudos: 56
Collections: HP Fluff Fest 2020





	The Perfect Moment

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the HP Fluff Fest 2020. Thank you to the mods for putting this fest together and also I want to thank my beta ObessedRHshipper who really helped me out when I decided to make last minute edits.

Hermione’s eyes readjusted as the candle light in her office flickered and dimmed from the natural daylight glow it normally put off to a dusky glow. She had long ago replaced the standard ministry issued everglow candles that made her eyes strain with a set of trick candles straight from the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes collection. The glow from these candles were soft and could adjust brightness to best suit the background of the text she was reading. After a set time, they began to dim automatically like a dying candle until finally they went out on their own. That last charm had been Ron’s idea long before she had even become Minister of Magic. Ron probably wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t suspected that she wasn’t eating dinner those nights she worked late. 

_ Is it really that late? _ she wondered. 

The universe answered her question in the form of a gentle rap against her open door. 

Hermione looked up to see the smiling but clearly weary face of her assistant. She fixed the woman with a bright smile, but could feel the same weariness in her own eyes. It had taken some time to get her assistant to relax around Hermione, but that was the same way for most people. It came along with being Minister of Magic but was no doubt amplified by being a part of the Golden Trio.

“I’m heading out, Minister,” her assistant said as she leaned into the room. Her fingers drummed lightly on the doorframe. “You wanted me to remind you to leave as well.”

“Yes, I did.” Hermione looked around her desk, she had at least one more parchment to revise before her meeting next week with the International Confederation of Wizards. She wasn’t even sure if more revisions were needed, but when you are a reformed perfectionist old habits die hard in certain situations. And this was one of them. This meeting was important to advance her reforms on the treatment of magical creatures around the world, but as a result she’d barely seen her own children all summer and they would be leaving for Hogwarts soon.

_ Work-life balance _ . Now, there was a concept Hermione never quite fully bought into. Still, the lack of it was never more blatant than now that she’d become Minister. She hadn’t seen her parents in over a month, she’d barely spent a moment with her kids since they’ve been home for summer holiday, and the Burrow was starting to feel like a figment of her imagination. And Ron…she’d barely had a minute to spare for a quiet moment with him. 

The drumming of fingers reminded her of her assistant’s presence.

“Thank you for reminding me, Millie. I think I will go home now,” Hermione said. 

Hermione arrived home a few minutes later. “I’m home,” she called out. There was no direct reply but she heard faint noises coming from the direction of the sitting room down the hall. Hermione shrugged off her robe and hung it on the stand near the floo. On the table next to the stand was a note written in Ron’s messy script saying that dinner was in the kitchen. 

Hermione’s stomach grumbled at reading those words.

She quickly made her way to the kitchen and spotted a plate of pasta next to a glass of wine. There was also a slice of tart that Hermione suspected was from Hugo. The edges had the kind of imperfections that could only come from the Muggle techniques Hugo used because of age restrictions on magic use outside Hogwarts.  The plate had a warming charm that kept the food at the perfect temperature until she arrived. Hermione picked up the fork and began to dig in. 

A bark of laughter, followed by a squeal, caught her by surprise and she nearly knocked over her glass.

Hermione stuffed the last bite from the plate in her mouth and grabbed the glass of wine as she walked to the sitting room. 

She stopped under the archway leading into the room and paused at the most lovely vision. Ron sat in the middle of their sofa with Rose and Hugo sitting on either side of him. Three charmed mugs and saucers floated in front of them. 

“Dad!’ Rose said with an edge of annoyance. “Aren’t we too old for this?”

“Never,” Ron replied. “Look at your brother. He's excited.”

Rose leaned forward to look across her father at Hugo. Her brother flashed her a broad grin but she just shook her head incredulously.

“Alright, aren’t I too old for this?” Rose rephrased.

“Ah come on, Rose bud—” Ron started to reply.

“Dad, please, you promised!”

“I never agreed to stop calling you that at home.”

Rose groaned in frustration. Hermione chuckled a little at the whole exchange. Rose had been fighting this battle for years now. She was stubborn, thanks to her parents, but still not quite the match for Ron when he got it in his mind to stick to something. And calling his children by endearing nicknames for the rest of their lives was one of those things.

“You used to love it when I read you stories.”

“Again, dad, I was ten.”

Ron scoffed. “I seem to recall reading you one just last year.”

Rose let out an exasperated groan and threw herself back against the cushion.

“Come on now, Rosie,” Ron asked in a pleading voice.

“Please, Rosie,” Hugo mimicked him.

“Just one last time, for your father’s sake.”

“Look at him, Rosie! He’s old. He needs this.”

“You’re not helping,” Ron chided Hugo, though Hermione expected he was more aggrieved at being called old. 

Rose let out a snort. “Alright, let’s get on with it then.” Her voice still bore the slightest hint of annoyance.

“Let’s see,” Ron said as he waved his wand and a stack of books levitated in front of them. . 

“Wizard or Muggle?” Ron asked.

“Wizard—”

“Muggle—” 

Rose and Hugo shouted different responses at the same time. Ron’s head swivleved from one to the other.

“Come on, dad!” Rose rasped. “If you’re going to make me sit here, then at least read the best one—”

“Yeah, do that Muggle one. I  like—the Count of Monte Cristo,” Hugo cut her of f.

“That’s not even a bedtime story, Hugo. It’s an entire novel,” Rose protested. “Besides it’s not even in the stack.”

“Dad used to tell it to me,” Hugo insisted. 

Hermione had never realised Ron had even read the story.

“Well, I did a version of sorts…,” Ron said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sure your mum would say I butchered it.” Hermione couldn’t imagine why he would think that she would care.

“What do you suggest, Rosie?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know...erm…,” Rose shrugged her shoulders with an air of effected nonchalance, “how about  Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump?”

“Ugh, that’s for little kids,” Hugo groaned.

“That happens to be a personal favourite of mine,” Ron chastised his son. Hermione could see the profile of Rose’s triumphant smile at his words.

“Good, so we’ll read my choice—” Rose started but Ron held up a hand to stop her.

“We’ll do both,” he said to renewed collective groans. He ignored them. “Let’s start with the Count of Monte Cristo. I have to do this one by memory so bear with me.”

Ron swished his wand twice and the stack of books floated back to the ground, while the mugs floated to their outstretched hands. 

Hermione thought of joining them on the sofa, but she also wanted to watch them together like this for just a moment longer. It reminded her of when Rose still allowed Hermione to put her hair in pigtails and Hugo was no taller than Ron’s knee. Now Rose’s hair was always styled like something out of Witch Weekly and Hugo was just shy of no longer having to look up to look in his father’s eyes. 

Watching them together like this was better than a million pictures, though Hermione couldn’t help but wish she was capturing the moment with a camera. Maybe it was just her earlier feelings of missing them all, but this felt like the perfect moment. 

Ron took a sip from his mug and cleared his throat. “Alright then, once upon a time there was...a Count—”

“And he was a Wizard,” Hugo added, bouncing with excitement. Hermione leaned her head to the side in confusion.

“Right, of course—once upon a time there was a Wizard who was the Count of Monte Cristo,” Ron started over, his voice as low and mysterious as he could manage. 

Ron’s story was wildly off-base from the actual one. The story was peppered with adventures involving trolls, giants, and mermaids. In fact, the only element that seemed to hold over, was that there was a Count, albeit one of the Wizard variety. Despite the sometimes outlandishness of the story, Hermione was enthralled. There was sword fighting and wand dueling. Ron ducked and lunged along with his story. He even managed to make Rose jump more than once. 

Hermione wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she had slowly walked closer, as Ron’s voice drew her in like a hypnotized moth. When she reached them, Hermione placed a hand on the sofa just behind Ron. Rose was the first to catch sight of her out of the corner of her eye and did a double take.

“Hi, Mum,” she said cheerily, then squinted her eyes. “You’re home earlier than we expected.”

“Not that early,” Hermione replied, feeling a little guilty for missing dinner. Ron and Hugo had now both turned to look at her as well.

“Hullo, there,” Ron said. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to know that Hugo may be in for a real shock if he ever reads the real version of Monte Cristo.” Hermione smirked and Ron’s ears started to redden.

“Heard all of it then?” 

Hermione nodded slowly and bit her lower lip to stop a teasing laugh. 

“Well, why didn’t you say something earlier?” Ron asked, but continued before she could answer. “Come on, join us. I was just about to move on to the next story.” 

Hermione walked around and squeezed in next to Hugo. 

“So remind me, what’s next?” Ron asked.

“Babbity Rabbity,” Rose and Hugo yelled together.

“That’s right,” Ron said. He flourished his wand again and a small book with peeling binding floated into his hands. Hermione remembered the book he was holding. It had the special status of causing both fond and unpleasant memories.

“Hermione,” Ron said. “Why don’t you read this one? You always read it so well.”

Ron held out the book to her and she took it. Hermione ran a finger along the runic symbols on the front of the book, a subconscious habit formed back during the war, and began to read. 

She looked up every so often to see their faces smiling back at her and she knew that she had been wrong earlier. This was it. This was the perfect moment to imprint in her memory for all time.

**Author's Note:**

> 🌻 This work is part of Fluff Fest, a Harry Potter-centered fest dedicated to fluffy themes, meet cutes and wholesome vibes.
> 
> If you’ve enjoyed this work, please show love and support to our precious content creators by leaving kudos and comments! 💌
> 
> [Feel free to check out the fest's tumblr for more updates. ](https://hpfluff-fest.tumblr.com/)


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